


Worth the Wait

by ALCzysz17



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Cunnilingus, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Mostly Jonsa with Cersei added on, Multi, Older Woman/Younger Man, Older Woman/Younger Woman, Plot filled smut, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, Woman on Top, slightly dub-con
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-09
Updated: 2019-03-09
Packaged: 2019-11-14 13:00:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,338
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18052952
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ALCzysz17/pseuds/ALCzysz17
Summary: Sansa never thought she'd step foot in King's Landing again, until she was left with no choice. Winterfell is in ruin, Eyrie holds too many hurtful memories, and Riverrun is a frozen wasteland. There is no where left to go but King's Landing with Cersei Lannister as Queen...and Jon Snow as her King. Sansa thought that was the worst of it, that is until she finds herself invited to dinner with a proposition that leaves her no choice but to accept.What could be worse living in Flea Bottom, status-less, or becoming the Queen and King's concubine?





	Worth the Wait

**Author's Note:**

  * For [winterslady](https://archiveofourown.org/users/winterslady/gifts).



> Hello all!! Did ya miss me? I sure as hell missed all of you!! It's been a touch few weeks with my schooling. I ended up taking four courses, but two were 8 week courses (16 week material smashed into 8) and it left me no time to write. But I passed with B's, thank goodness, and I am able to set aside time to write now with only two courses for the remainder of my spring semester. I have tons of reading to catch up on and writing.
> 
> This story has been in the works since November, but I struggled to finish then the new semester left no time. Anyway, this story was requested by the ever lovely (and kinky) Winterslady! I will forewarn that there is a bit of dub-con, but only in the fact that Sansa is kind of left no choice but to partake in the proposition she is offered. It will be more Jonsa then a three-way and the reasoning is that Jon and Sansa love each other, and Cersei is possessive of Jon (her means of keeping power) and finds Sansa appealing and obviously loves to torment the poor girl.
> 
> With that being said, please enjoy! ^_~

 

 

Sansa never thought she’d ever step foot in King’s Landing again. Not after everything she had been through, the pain, the loss, and the trauma placed upon her by the denizens of this capital city. Surely, she’d put a dagger to her heart before ever coming back and yet here she is. Though it was an unwilling foot each way of the trek from the remains of Winterfell to here - the last safe haven after the damage three wild and fire breathing dragons have left behind.

Each day was another step away from her smoldering and burnt home and another step closer to her living, breathing Hell. If there weren’t so many people depending on her to be strong and lead the way, Sansa would have instead stayed in Winterfell among the burnt remains of the heart tree. Her last connection to what it was to be a Stark.

A sense of heavy dread weighed down upon her as she rode her horse through the gates of King’s Landing. It was foreboding the way she was consumed by shadows the moment she entered the city. The air growing more constricted and thicker in her throat. Sansa gripped the reins ever tighter, urging her horse to make the descent through the outer limits of the city and towards the Red Keep.

It felt like she was descending into Hell.

Sansa forced her shoulders back, her chin raised high, and her eyes unblinking when she finally came into sight of the Red Keep and standing there, awaiting her arrival was none other than Cersei Lannister, herself.

Her hair had grown some from how short it was cut when she was in the hands of the High Septon, now fashionably framing her jawline. Her sharp green eyes seemed to be filled with glee at the sight of Sansa leading the way of the refugees of the North.

Sansa didn’t know what was harder to look at, Cersei Lannister with a crown on her head or her cousin, Jon Snow at her side as her king consort. A ripple of pain shot through her chest at the solemn sight of him beside his Queen wife. Though he seemed rather morose, she could see a glimmer of pleasure in seeing her alive and well though how long that would be was left to be foreseen.

“Welcome refugees of the North and Winterfell. With the recent wars ravaging the lands of Westeros there have been many deaths which have left many jobs and homes that need filling. All peasants are to go to Flea’s Bottom where work, food, and shelter can be found. Lords and Ladies are welcomed to stay in the Red Keep until further accommodations can be discussed,” Cersei announced almost politely, smiling reassuringly though it was the smile of a snake, Sansa noted.

Slowly, Sansa got down from her horse, still gripping the reins like a lifeline. She jumped when a guard took the reins from her, stating she would not need the horse in the Red Keep. She watched her horse be lead away as she placed the bag that held all the belongings she owned within.

Mostly it held things that were of sentimental value for her. Her mother’s hairbrush, Bran’s favorite storybook, a poorly embroidered handkerchief Arya had made for Sansa on her tenth name day, and a small teddy bear that belonged to Rickon. She had nothing that could be salvaged of her father’s or Robb’s. The Bolton’s destroyed anything that was remotely theirs.

Without anything to honestly hold her back, she followed the crowd into the Red Keep. Sansa could feel Cersei’s eyes on her as she walked in, burning a hole into her back. She was mildly surprised when the older woman hadn’t called for someone to seize her immediately. She figured though that it had much to do with Jon than Cersei’s own wants.

It was his sacrifice that saved them all from Daenerys and her rampaging dragons. If Jon had not gone to treat with Cersei and her Golden Company after the revelation of Jon’s true parentage that shattered the alliance with Daenerys, then they’d all be dead. Winterfell was lost by the Dragon Queen’s anger, feeling Jon had known all along and wished to steal the throne from her; to deceive her.

Once the Night King was dealt with, it was a war between humans and dragons. Ser Jamie Lannister lost his life taking out Daenerys favored dragon, Drogon while her second had already been killed in a fight to the death by her third dragon that the Night King had turned previously.

Sadly, Winterfell was lost before the end. Sansa had tried to stay North, but winter was at its harshest and nothing could or would grow. It only made sense to travel further South though she loathed it. Jon had sent her a scroll in Riverrun requesting she come with the rest of the refugees to King’s Landing where food was plentiful considering the ongoing wars the previous moons, and it was warm.

Even her mother’s childhood home was left desolate and barren. The rivers surrounding the Tully lands had all frozen over with thick slabs of ice that was not easy to penetrate through. Truly, there was nowhere left to go but further South.

Though there was the idea of going back to the Vale, she couldn’t quite make herself fully commit to the plan. Memories of her insane aunt, sickly cousin, and the shadow of Petyr Baelish lingered in her mind, keeping her from even suggesting the Vale regardless of the supplies the Eyrie had.

Sansa even toyed around with the idea of bypassing King’s Landing altogether and head towards Dorne instead, but her heart felt heavy every time she thought of doing so. She realized it was because of Jon. He sacrificed so much, his entire life so she and the realm could be safe, and she would repay him by leaving him behind. Sansa couldn’t do that, but also because she loved him. He was family, her only family. Though there were strange, lingering feelings that weren’t so familial if she took the time to truly think about them.

She didn’t want to though.

To acknowledge the strange feelings that developed between her and Jon would mean to recognize the heartbreak she went through when she received the scroll announcing his marriage to the self-proclaimed Queen of Westeros. Sansa had felt sick to her stomach upon reading his written words. She all but crumbled upon the stone floor of their shared solar, her face buried within the skirts of her dress as the world seemed to break down around her.

It was by his behest that they left Winterfell before Daenerys came and burned down her childhood home.

Sansa closed her eyes for a moment, stepping aside from the slowly moving group of lords and ladies to compose herself. Seeing Jon again, even if briefly had struck a cord of calm through her, shaking up her entire being and bringing back the rush of emotions she had been so good at keeping at bay. The urge to turn around and rush into his embrace was strong, overwhelmingly strong.

A hand on her elbow drew her attention to see little Lady Lyanna Mormont watching her with intense, concern filled eyes. They had gotten off on a bad start, in the beginning, her too young to seem to understand the implications Sansa was put through, but after a long one-on-one talk between them after the battle for Winterfell had been won, she seemed to better understand the situation and they became friends.

“Are you okay, Lady Stark?” Lyanna asked quietly, her hand still lightly squeezing Sansa’s elbow in a reassuring way. She nodded, releasing a soft sigh that exuded the emotions that threatened to take over her.

“I will be. Thank you,” Sansa answered, reaching up to clasp a hand over hers, returning her squeeze.

She could see that the younger girl didn’t wholly believe Sansa’s words, but she released her elbow all the same and walked beside her as they continued their trek into the castle.

As they made their way, a guard abruptly stopped Sansa in her tracks, stating that she was to be taken to a different chamber than the rest. Lyanna looked extremely reluctant to leave her side, but Sansa assured her it would be alright. She hoped. It only took a few minutes for her to realize where exactly she was being taken too.

Sansa swallowed thickly as she was lead towards the royal sept within the Red Keep. Her fingers curled in to dig her nails into her palms while her shoulders tensed up around her neck. The sept loomed overhead, but they continued to walk past it. Somehow, Sansa felt like she wasn’t all that surprised as she was led to the Maidenvault tucked away behind the royal sept. It’s long, slated roof coming into sight before the rest of the stone building came into view with its two tall carved doors.

One door was opened for their entrance where Sansa was lead to her new chambers. She entered the rather large room with large windows letting in the sunlight of the afternoon. There was a large bed on the back wall, a vanity towards the right with a dresser nearby. On the left, there was a shielded section where a large tub was situated and a chamber pot. The windows were opened, allowing a cool wind to drift through from the bay beyond the high walls of the Red Keep. Faintly, she could even hear the crashing of waves if she listened hard enough.

The guard left after letting her in, so Sansa looked around then opened the drawers of the dresser, finding it filled with dresses, nightgowns, corsets, and under things ranging from cotton to silk. She wondered if this had been Lady Margaery’s chambers before her untimely death, but as Sansa pulled out one of the dresses and laid it against her body, she came to find that it was fitted to her height and weight.

“Lovely dress, isn’t it?” Sansa startled, turning around to see Cersei Lannister leaning against the door frame, her arms crossed over her chest as she gazed back at her.

“Yes,” Sansa replied softly, gently folding the dress back up to replace it back into the drawer. “Whose dresses do they belong too?” She hoped the Queen did not say Margaery.

“They belong to you.”

“What?” Sansa voiced in shock, accidentally slamming the drawer harder than she meant too. Cersei looked plenty amused, her lips curling into a smirk.

“I had them made all for you.”

“Why?” she couldn’t help but question further. It didn’t make sense that Cersei would have dresses made for her like this, like she was expecting Sansa to stay far longer than she was intended too.

She had a scroll tucked away in her bag from Gilly Tarly, Samwell Tarly’s wife, telling Sansa that she was more than welcomed to stay at the Reach with them. The idea was more tempting than she had realized now that she was here, in King’s Landing again. Sansa figured she’d stay a week to a fortnight before rushing off to the Reach.

Cersei pushed off the door frame, walking slowly as she moved further into the chambers, her eyes roaming the room. “You know it was so lovely to see you come here, Sansa. You have no idea how happy you made my husband, nor how much he has truly missed you,” Cersei said gently, a sweet smile on her lips that probably tasted like poison.

Sansa wondered if she should bring it back to her question or respond to the Queen’s statement. Before she could decide, Cersei continued on, “I’m sure you are surprised that this is your chambers instead of the dungeon.”

Sansa nodded, clasping her hands together to keep from fidgeting underneath Cersei’s green stare. How was it that mere minutes in her presence seemed to transfer Sansa back into the days of her youth when she feared every word, every look, and every smile that Cersei directed her way. It was like no years had gone by since the last time she had spoken to the older woman. Sansa felt much like the young girl of fourteen she had been rather than a woman of twenty.

“While you were away,” Cersei waved her hand out in gesture, “the court had learned that you were innocent in your first husband’s murder of my son, King Joffrey Baratheon. There will be a trial in a week’s time where you will pledge yourself to me and stand by while your first husband, Tyrion Lannister is sentenced to death for treason against the crown for aiding a foreign conqueror and kinslaying of both my son and my father.”

Sansa felt the air leave her lungs. She was more than grateful to be found innocent because she was, but the fact that it was all pinned on her first husband when in reality it was the work of Lady Olenna Tyrell and Littlefinger made it all feel so wrong. It wasn’t justice, it was revenge and hatred.

“But Tyrion didn’t-Shut your mouth, little dove.” Sansa bit her tongue, Cersei glared heatedly at her. She approached her with only a foot or two between them. “You are innocent and don’t think for a second that it doesn’t rub me raw to know that. Tyrion, regardless if one of the many crimes he committed is true or not means nothing. He will be sentenced to death, and you will watch it and thank the Seven that you get to keep your head.” She nodded, hating to agree, but knowing that Cersei made a good point.

There was no real love between them, and the venom that the older woman had spit out in her words told Sansa enough to know that she still did not have an extreme like of her, that she was merely tolerating Sansa. It begged the question of why she was here, in the Maidenvault, and why she was given high-quality clothing as well.

Sansa jumped when she felt Cersei’s hand cup her cheek, lightly running her slim thumb against her cheekbone. The air seemed to feel so heavy around her like the Queen had snapped her fingers and taken the breath from Sansa’s lungs. Her thumb slid down her skin, lightly touching the edge of her mouth where her bottom lip slightly trembled. Her eyes were locked into place, staring into the green depths of the Queen where heat, anger, and something else resided within.

As abruptly as the touch happened, it was gone, and Cersei was stepping away, releasing the air back into Sansa’s lungs so she could breathe properly again.

“You are invited to a private dinner with me and my king consort. Dress formally, and I would choose the blue gown with the pearl corset, it’ll push up what little breasts you have,” Cersei slyly advised, the corner of her mouth quirked up in amusement before she left.

Sansa spent the next hour dreading the private dinner. Two maids came in to help her dress properly for dinner, finding the pearl corset that had a line of small, beaded pearls along the top of the corset. Cersei was right in stating that it would boost her breasts up and paired with the blue gown, Sansa was sporting an excessive amount of cleavage that she normally would never showcase.

Feeling extremely self-conscious, she decided to keep her hair down with her long bangs braided and pulled back from her face. Sansa used her long hair to shield her breasts from sight though that hardly did anything but draw the eyes to what was being hidden.

Once the maids had left, Sansa continued the dreaded dance of waiting until there was a soft knock at the door. She opened it to find a man standing on the other side, he simply handed her a piece of paper then promptly left without a word spoken otherwise. Sansa closed her door before opening the note, her heart skipping a beat as she read Jon’s handwriting, requesting she come to his solar before dinner.

Sansa quickly threw on a light cloak then ventured out of her chambers and out of the Maidenvault. There were many lords and ladies about, taking in the Red Keep as for many, it was the first time they had ever stepped foot in King’s Landing. Sansa walked briskly, keeping her head down to avoid watchful eyes as she made her way to the King’s solar.

Apprehension made her pause before knocking. This would be the first time she truly seen Jon since he left Winterfell eight moons ago to negotiate with Cersei Lannister and end up wedded to her. Eight moons wishing nothing more than to hold him, cling to him desperately and beg Jon to tell her why. Sansa knew the whys though, she knew, but that didn’t stop the pain inside her heart.

Straightening her shoulders, Sansa took in a deep breath, held it for a moment, and released it along with the tension in her body. Then finally, she knocked on the door. It was almost immediately opened like he had been waiting anxiously for her arrival. She stepped inside slowly, shutting the door behind her to take in Jon before her.

He looked much the same as when he left. His beard full, but trimmed, his hair curly and bound behind his head, and his long Northern face where his full lips bloomed into a happy smile that created those tiny wrinkles at the corners of his eyes. Sansa felt her breath taken from her at the sight.

“Jon,” she breathed out then she was quickly engulfed in his embrace. Her arms wrapped tightly around his neck, pressing her face into his hair and ear as she cradled him to her. Jon breathed out her name into her neck, pressing a loving kiss there that made her nerves vibrate and tremble. His hands were wrapped tightly around her back, one pressed between her shoulders and the other covering the small of her back.

All at once, Sansa felt completely and utterly whole again. It was like her other half finally came back home, finally connected back to make her a whole person once more. Jon pressed his lips against her skin again then turned to kiss the edge of her jaw, underneath her chin. Sansa shivered in his arms, squeezing him tighter than before.

Eventually, he pulled back from her, enough to put a few inches between their faces before he cupped her cheek. A sense of déjà vu came over her as his thumb rubbed her soft skin then tugged her wordlessly down and forward to press another tender kiss to her forehead. Jon lingered for a long time as though he were trying to will his feelings and thoughts into her mind through his lips.

Sansa pulled away when he finally relented. “Oh Jon, I’ve missed you so much,” Sansa said quietly, a soft whisper breath between them. Her eyes watered at how much she truly had missed him. His eyes mirrored her own, appearing glossy and wet.

“Aye, I missed you just as much, Sansa. There has not been a day that hasn’t gone by without me thinking of you, wishing you were here,” Jon admitted chokingly, his words slightly harsh and raspy from deeply held emotions.

A few tears escaped her eyes, but Jon was quick to wipe them away. “Please, come sit down. We have much to talk about,” he insisted swiftly, pulling away but grasping her hand to lead her to a couch against the far wall. It was as though he could not physically part from her and Sansa found she felt much the same.

Once they were situated on the couch, his hand still holding on to hers, he asked how she had been; truly. Sansa spent that time telling him about her travels to Riverrun, the burial of her uncle Edmure Tully, and the damages that the Tully stronghold contained. She spoke of everything frozen over and finally, she spoke of Winterfell.

During her talking, Sansa composed herself for the questions that she needed answered, that she needed to hear from his voice and spoken from his lips. Jon seemed to absorb her words, squeezing her hand when words got stuck in her throat. Something else she missed dearly about him.

“Why?” Sansa finally asked, brokenly. “Why did you agree to marry her?” Sansa knew it was for their alliance, to save the world from the Dragon Queen and her dragons. She still needed to hear it from him though.

Jon sighed, reaching up his free hand to pinch the bridge of his nose. Quite suddenly, he looked much older than his twenty-three years. His brow wrinkled tiredly while his shoulders slumped.

“To protect you,” he replied tiredly, turning his grey eyes up to gaze at her. “If I married Cersei Lannister, she would name you innocent of any crimes you were accused of. I did it to protect you from your worse enemy. I never meant to hurt you like this though,” Jon assured her softly, cupping her cheek once more to wipe at stray tears.

She had been correct in assuming it was Jon that saved her from a cell in the dungeon. What hurt yet warmed her heart though, was the fact that he did it entirely to protect her and not the realm. The sincerity in his voice as he admitted that she meant more to him to protect than the rest of Westeros, Sansa didn’t know what to say after that. There was so much warmth and love in his eyes, she could never mistake his feelings towards her.

Jon loved her; unconditionally.

He opened his mouth as though to say more, but a knock at his door interrupted him. He got up to answer it, speaking softly with whoever was on the other side of the door before turning back to her. “I have more to speak to you about, but our time here is done, and you should head over to dinner now. Wouldn’t want Her Grace to be left waiting,” he commented gruffly at the end, spurring a smile on Sansa’s lips.

She stood up, her cloak dropping behind her shoulders to reveal the bodice of her dress. Sansa glanced up at the sharp intake of breath, witnessing the widened stare Jon gave her as his eyes took in her revealing cleavage. She watched him swallow as his face heated. “Cersei insisted I wear this dress,” Sansa quickly explained, grabbing the edges of her cloak to cover herself up again.

“I’m certain she did,” Jon muttered, directing his gaze back on her eyes though there was a heat in his stare that wasn’t there before.

Sansa walked up to him, staring into his eyes briefly then leaned up to kiss his cheek tenderly. She felt the edge of his mouth touch the barest side of her own lips, enough to send a ripple through her nerves into her fingers and toes. They pulled away at the same time, smiles lightly mirroring each other. Sansa gave his burnt hand a squeeze, wishing she did not have to let it go before she left his solar to make her way to the private dinner she wished she was not invited to.

Cersei stood by open glass doors leading out to the balcony when Sansa entered the room. She held a glass of red wine in her hand, sipping leisurely at it before she turned her head to take Sansa in. She could tell the Queen was pleased by her wearing the dress and corset as she draped her cloak on the seat she was certain was hers.

“You look lovely, little dove,” Cersei declared, sipping at her wine once more. Sansa bowed her head, mumbling her ‘thanks’. She was waved to sit down as a few serving wrenches placed their first course on the long table.

Sansa wasn’t so sure she’d be able to stomach anything, but she would try her best. Another door to the right of the open balcony opened and in came Jon. Cersei smiled in that sly way of hers, setting down her wine glass to approach Jon. He glanced at her then directed his gaze entirely on his Queen wife where she cupped his cheeks and openly kissed him.

Her stomach plummeted at the sight of them kissing. Sansa instantly felt sick to her stomach, the urge to retch was strong. Pain echoed within her body at the sight, but she couldn’t seem to look away. Jon’s eyes were closed as he gave into the heated, long kiss, grasping Cersei by her shoulders to steady her as he returned her hard kiss with his own.

The feelings Sansa tried so hard to keep buried away, bubbled up inside her. Her eyes watered before she finally could force herself to look elsewhere. I’m not a little girl anymore, I know they are married, and I should have expected this, Sansa belittled herself mentally, trying to exude strength that she did not feel.

Cersei appeared to her right, seating herself at the head of the table as Jon sat on her left, in front of Sansa. She kept her gaze on the cooked duck between them, willing away the moisture in her eyes.

“Is everything alright, little dove?” Cersei asked almost sinisterly, a knowing smirk stretching her lips across her face. Sansa merely shook her head, avoiding Jon’s persistent gaze.

“Okay. Jon, could you be a dear and serve us.” Jon nodded in the corner of Sansa’s eye, leaning forward to cut into the roasted duck. The smell, though delicious, nauseated her stomach further after the display she witnessed.

Jon served his wife first then placed two thinly sliced pieces of duck on her plate before helping himself. He continued by putting sweet corn and sweet potatoes on their plates then reseated himself. Cersei had them pray to the Seven before they started to eat.

“Sansa dear, you haven’t said a word to your cousin,” Cersei remarked, taking a bit of sweet potato as she eyed her over.

“How are you, my king?” Sansa asked blandly, looking up from her barely touched food to see the pained expression on his face. She felt a jolt of pain run through her chest, realizing that he didn’t want to hurt her like this, but he had no choice.

It was hard though, watching them kiss. It felt like a hand had wrapped around her heart and squeezed as hard as it could, intending to burst the beating muscle into bloody chunks.

“I am well, thank you, my lady,” Jon responded back solemnly.

“Oh, come now, this is supposed to be a family reunion. I expected far more enthusiasm than this.” When neither of them responded to her, Cersei rolled her eyes with a deeply seated sigh. “Right then, I suppose we should get down to business.”

Sansa frowned at the word ‘business’. Fear seeped through her veins as she wondered what specific business there was to be had between them. Unless Cersei intended to talk about the upcoming trial though she figured that was not the case by the amused gleam in the older woman’s eyes. So, Sansa ventured to ask, “What business do you speak of, Your Grace?”

“To answer your question, little dove, is simple. Though I am still quite beautiful for my age, I am still far older than you both and as such things change. You see Sansa, my husband is quite young in comparison to me, and the kingdom expects an heir eventually, but I have been told that I can no longer bear children,” Cersei explained clinically like she was speaking of someone else rather than her. “This, as you should know, is a dilemma. Unless I appoint an heir or Jon take a second wife which,” Cersei paused to laugh, “will never happen, we must find another opinion.”

“And the business you have with me?” Sansa inquired, realization slowly starting to dawn on her.

“You’re not as stupid as I called you previously, Sansa. You are to be our royal concubine and will produce the heir to the iron throne.” Sansa blinked multiple times, trying to comprehend how this logic seemed to work for them.

“But I am a high-born lady,” she managed to choke out, glancing between Cersei’s sharp green eyes and Jon’s solemn grey eyes.

“Yes, a high-born lady without a home. Without Winterfell behind you, your status is somewhat lowered than before and with your sickly cousin lord of the Eyrie and Riverrun barren, there is nothing of value appointed to you. I assure you, Sansa, you will have a home here in the Red Keep. The Maidenvault will be your private chambers, all I want is an heir for the iron throne, but I wouldn’t be opposed to two or three to be lords or ladies of Casterly Rock and Dragonstone, respectively,” the older woman stated with amusement dripping off every word.

“Would it not make more sense for me to be a second wife instead?” Sansa did not want to be a concubine to Jon. It was no status for a high-born lady such as herself, to be reduced to a breeding mare for the Queen because she could not have her own children now.

“No!” Cersei practically growled. “Jon will never marry another again. I am and will be his only wife.” Sansa could see the possessiveness in her, the sharpness of her eyes and the way her hand clutched at Jon’s on the tabletop. It was like a shackle. “Now, if you agree then we will begin tonight, in my chambers.”

Sansa started to shake her head. “What if I don’t agree?”

“What if, indeed. Tell her, husband,” Cersei implored Jon, running her long fingers over his tightly fisted knuckles.

“If…If you disagree with these arrangements, then you will be stripped of your title as you have no claim to any lands now that Winterfell has been destroyed. You will be removed from the Red Keep posthaste and sent to Flea Bottom with the…the rest of the peasants who are starving for food and work.” Jon looked utterly disgusted with the words coming out of his mouth, his lips twisted as though he ate something quite foul, and he looked everywhere but at her.

“I can leave King’s Landing,” Sansa quickly spat out, eyes narrowing into slits as she glared at Cersei who looked so entertained by her anger.

“No, little dove, actually you cannot. You are considered a key witness to my traitor brother’s trial, so until that trial comes about, you cannot leave this city.”

“That’s only in a week.”

“Is it?” Cersei tapped at her bottom lip in thought. “Well, sometimes these processes take longer than first thought. It could be in a week…or two, a moon…or two…there is still so much evidence to be gathered, it could take a year or more before a trial is set.”

Sansa felt the rage in her stomach bubble. “In the meantime, if you refuse this arrangement then you will be of peasant status, living and working in Flea Bottom with the rest. Who knows, maybe you’ll be working at one of Littlefinger’s old establishments before the week is out?”

Jon viciously yanked his hand out from under Cersei’s grip, stewing away in his own anger. She frowned at her husband’s callous move, nails digging into the wooden tabletop. Sansa closed her eyes for a moment, hoping to figure something out, to change this into a benefit for her that didn’t require she sell her body.

She couldn’t leave King’s Landing until after Tyrion’s trial, but if she refused Cersei’s offer, then she’d live in Flea’s Bottom. If she agreed though, she’d be considered the King’s concubine. Higher than a peasant, but lower than her high-born status demanded.

Then there were the other, smaller feelings in regards to this. Sansa couldn’t hide from her feelings anymore. She was in love with Jon, her once half-brother turned cousin. If she agreed, then she could be with him like she always wanted. They could even plot to take Cersei out, once and for all. She was among the smallfolk, free folk, and high-born, and there was no love for the Queen Cersei Lannister among any of them.

It was the fact that she was wedded to Jon that kept her in power, and Sansa knew Cersei knew that too. It made sense why she would offer this to her and no one else. Sansa also couldn’t hide the fact that Jon might also feel far more than normal, familial feelings for her too.

Opening her eyes, she took in the anger and pain that seemed to radiate off Jon like an aura or rain cloud overhead. As though he felt her eyes on him, he lifted his gaze from his plate to connect his eyes with hers. Sansa could see so clearly that he wanted her, he loved her, but he would not force her into this. She wondered if he meant to warn her about this before the dinner, but they had not had the time.

Maybe he feared telling her though, not wanting their first meeting in so many moons be wroth with such a displeasing situation.

“You don’t have to agree, Sansa,” Jon finally voiced, his words spoken deeply from his chest.

“Well, she doesn’t have much of a choice, does she, husband,” Cersei interjected haughtily.

“Because you aren’t giving her much of one,” Jon barked back, looking ready to jump up in his anger. Sansa glanced over to see Cersei looking rather unamused by her husband’s defiance of her terms. The air was tense between them all and with the way Jon’s mouth turned into a deeply set frown, it would only get worse once he opened his mouth again.

In the end, Sansa felt like she had no choice, and yet it was the best out of a bad situation.

“I…I agree…to the arrangements you have offered me, My Queen and My King. I will gladly serve as the King’s concubine,” Sansa said in such a detached tone; a defeated tone.

“Sansa,” Jon mumbled, his face crumbling from his frown. She looked up from her cold food to give him a reassuring smile though she wasn’t so sure how reassuring it was. She felt like she was now sharing the same shackle as he was.

“Oh, no dear. You won’t be the King’s concubine, you will be our concubine,” Cersei restated, smirking at the confusion in Sansa’s features. “You see, you will never be bedded by the King alone. I will always be there, in bed with you both, enjoying the bedding as much as you both will.”

Sansa wasn’t sure what to say to that, her voice locked up tight within her throat. Cersei seemed rather pleased by her reaction, lifting her wine glass to sip at the remaining liquid smugly.

“I recommend you drink your wine, little dove, you will need it.” At her Queen’s insistence, Sansa lifted her own wine glass, gulping down the sweet, tangy and tart liquid until her glass came up empty. The alcohol was stronger in that wine than any she had drank before, hitting Sansa a bit harder than she was used too. “Now then, let’s start the bedding!” Cersei all but clapped her hands, standing up as both Sansa and Jon slowly got up from their seats almost mechanically.

Jon offered her his arm, leading her through the door he had come through earlier. Cersei followed behind them, burning pathways down Sansa’s back. They entered a bedchamber, Cersei’s by the looks of it with a large vanity on one side and large bed that was even bigger than Sansa’s in the Maidenvault. It was decorated in the Lannister colors of reds and golds, and it emphasized to her how much Cersei had genuinely won in the end.

The evil woman that was the bane of her life had made it through to the end and she not only ruled Westeros, but she ruled over Jon and Sansa as well. It seemed to truly hit her now, making it harder to breathe. Sansa wasn’t so sure she could follow through with what was intended to happen, but when she glanced at Jon and saw the reassurance she needed, that they could get through this in one piece. Never-mind that she didn’t have much a choice in the matter.

Yet, neither did he.

They came to a stop near the bed, listening to Cersei shutting the door behind her before she approached them, smirk ever present. “You both seem nervous, how about a kiss and moving on from there,” she instructed lightly, seating herself on her bed to watch them.

Jon stared at his wife for a long moment as though he wasn’t sure if she was being serious or not. She waved at him in mild irritation, “Go on then.”

Sansa waited until Jon looked back at her to reach up and touch his bearded cheek. He jolted in surprise, giving her the tiniest of smiles before placing a hand on her waist to pull her closer to him. The heat of his hand seeped through the soft, thin fabric of her dress to warm her skin underneath. With Cersei quietly watching them, it was both easy and hard to ignore her presence. Easy because she said nothing; hard because she was watching them with those insightful eyes of hers.

She pursed her dry lips together at first then lightly ran her tongue along them to wet them, heat bursting down her spine when Jon followed her tiny slip of tongue on her lips with his dark eyes. The air seemed tense between them, rippling yet thick. Sansa felt a shiver go down her spine, noticing how Jon’s face was slowly inclining towards hers. She wasn’t sure if she should close her eyes or not, her nerves shook and tingled beneath her skin.

Jon lightly touched the tip of his nose against hers, nuzzling it softly as though to reassure her of their situation. Sansa felt her lips twitch in a tiny smile, returning his nuzzle. His eyes drifted halfway shut. She always wondered what it would feel like to kiss him, to taste his lips and tangle their tongues. She had dreamed about it plenty of times and woke in the morning longing for Jon’s presence before and after he left to wed Cersei.

And now, she would finally know.

Sansa sighed at the soft touch of his lips against hers. They were gentle, plush feeling, and softened the stiffness in her muscles. It was only a mere brush of lips, but it was enough to let her know his kiss was exactly what she thought kisses should be like. Jon seemed to tremble beneath her hand on his cheek then he was pressing deeply against her lips, tasting her fully.

Cersei made a noise of amusement, but it drowned in the sounds of their kissing. Sansa curled her other hand around his head, tangling within his bound hair as the kiss deepened further with the introduction of tongues. Her chest was flattened to his where each breath he took she felt like they were breathing in each other like they were one person.

“It’s so strange how much seeing you two like this reminds me of Jaime and myself,” Cersei commented, ripping right through the thick tension between them.

Jon pulled back enough to allow air to flow between them, his eyes remained on her though. “Did either of you do anything before you found out about Lyanna and Rhaegar? Jon was very adamant that nothing happened before we wed, but I am curious.”

“No,” Sansa answered, glancing at Cersei to see her staring with molted green eyes that were like wildfire. “No, we never did.”

“Shame. There is nothing quite like the forbidden,” the Queen said then waved her hand at them, “continue on, I quite like watching you two.”

Sansa wasn’t sure how she felt about that remark. Her body felt warm though, and she could feel her smallclothes had become moist from kissing Jon. Using the hand that was still threaded through his hair, she tugged him back to her. Immediately, Jon devoured her lips. It was like he was trying to distract her from the fact that Cersei watched them so intently. Yet, his insistent lips and tongue did nothing to detract from the burning touch of her wildfire eyes on them. She wondered how much the Queen honestly liked what she was seeing.

There was an undercurrent of possessiveness that she felt over Jon, it was shown most by Cersei’s reluctance to let Jon have a second wife. Sansa wondered what went through the older woman’s mind when she learned of her twin’s death; her lover’s death. Maybe Cersei was transferring her feelings for Jaime on to Jon? She was of the same age as her mother had Lady Catelyn lived, and surely there was a sense of pride that she could have such a young and handsome husband like Jon by her side.

Sansa jumped at the nip of Jon’s teeth at her bottom lip then he was pressing kisses to her chin down to her jawline where he sucked a bloom on her throat. A soft moan left her lips, and he echoed it with his own, sucking harder upon her skin. Sansa lolled her head back, her eyes fluttered briefly to see the high ceilings overhead then in the corner of her eye she watched Cersei with flushed cheeks, and her wicked mouth softened as all her attention was on them. Strangely, the sight made Sansa moan a bit louder.

Jon dragged his lips down the slope of her neck, littering little red marks where he wanted. He descended further down, tasting the skin of her cleavage with his tongue. Heat pulsed through her veins. Sansa felt like she was slowly burning in a fire and she wondered if that was how she would go if Cersei had had her way. Would it feel so sweet and sinful as it does with Jon? Sansa knew it wouldn’t remotely feel the same, but her mind was so fogged by the pleasure that she wasn’t starting to make sense even to herself.

Fingers danced on the back of her dress, running smoothly over the fabric before working swiftly at the ties. Feeling both of Jon’s hands on her lower back, Sansa knew it was Cersei’s hands working at undressing her. Nerves fought against the pleasure, mixing her up as Jon continued to suck marks on her skin and Cersei split the dress apart at her back to reveal the pearled corset underneath.

Jon pulled a hand from her back to tug at the front of the dress, pulling it down over the corset for his greedy eyes to see. Cersei’s fingers moved to the ties of the corset next, sweeping Sansa’s long hair out of the way. A soft kiss touched her shoulder causing shuddering nerves to vibrate beneath her skin. Heat gathered further between her legs as she was kissed from front and back.

The ties loosened causing the corset to start sagging at the front. Jon moaned her name into her skin then almost simultaneously they both pulled at the restraining garb until her breasts were freed. Sansa’s breath hitched inside her throat. A soft breeze came through the open windows of the Queen’s chambers causing her nipples to harden. Jon mumbled her name again then closed his plump lips around a stiff nipple.

Cersei drew her hands down Sansa’s arms, pulling them off Jon’s being, so she could pull the dress and corset down her body. Her skin pimpled at the soft breezes and even more so when the Queen traced her fingers along her skin. “So soft and supple,” Cersei mumbled in Sansa’s ear then pressed a kiss to her cheek. Her long fingers danced along the skin of her belly, up her ribs then she was cupping her breasts as her husband sucked at a nipple.

The heat was becoming unbearable in a way. She felt encased within fire from Jon’s dragon blood and Cersei’s wildfire, Sansa was melting like ice. She turned her head as though to escape from the heat only to be captured in a different kind when Cersei took her by the lips. Her kiss was far different from Jon’s; harder, thirstier, and demanding while Jon kissed her lovingly with barely contained attraction and want. Sansa gasped at the kiss, allowing the Queen to take over her mouth and completely denominate the kiss between them.

Jon released her lovingly abused nipple, kissing underneath her breast then trailing further down her stomach. Cersei drank in her moans and whines, devouring any noise Sansa produced as she kissed her brand of poison into her veins. Sansa knew she shouldn’t feel such pleasure from this evil, vile woman, but she did. She tried to believe it was only from Jon, but she couldn’t hide the needy whine she gave when Cersei stroked her tongue with her own. She couldn’t pretend she was unaffected by the older woman, no more than she could pretend she was unaffected by Jon.

Sansa released another gasp, this time from Jon’s doing. His large, calloused hands tugged at her smallclothes, pulling them down her thighs until she was completely and utterly naked before the Queen and King of Westeros. Cersei curled her hands around Sansa’s breasts, squeezing her fingers around her pink nipples just as Jon pressed a soft kiss to her mound.

Never had she felt so much pleasure before. The only memories she had of sex were the scars both on her body and mind that Ramsay Bolton left behind. Sansa knew that it would be enjoyable, that she could derive pleasure from the act, but she had never known how much and how pleasurable it could truly be. It was overwhelming and consuming, and yet it strangely was not enough.

Then Jon spread her thighs and kissed her there, the place hidden between her legs. He ran his tongue through her wet folds, tasting the wetness on her skin before he began to suck and lick. Cersei hummed in acknowledgment, pulling away from Sansa’s lips to state, “He’s very good at this. Far better than even Jaime was, and I bet you have never experienced such a thing before.”

Sansa merely moaned, dropping her head back onto the older woman’s shoulder. Jon groaned into her wet flesh, grabbing tightly at her right thigh for a moment then pulling it up over his shoulder where somehow, he managed to come closer and devour her cunt. Cersei continued to pinch and tug at her nipples, looking over her slim shoulder to watch her husband sup at his cousin’s cunt. They were both pressed up tight against each other; indeed, it was Cersei that held her up while her lone leg struggled to hold her weight underneath the assault of Jon’s tongue and lips.

Her hands found their way to Jon’s hair, pulling and tugging until the tie that bound his hair back loosened and fell to the ground. Now she was free to grasp his wild hair as she pleased, and she pleased dearly. Jon circled his tongue around her hidden nub, teasing the fleshy button from hiding then he trapped it within his mouth to suck. Sansa cried out in pleasure, the only sounds were her breathy voice and his gulping and supping at her cunt.

A pressure built in her abdomen, growing stronger and stronger; stimulated by the touches and kisses they were giving her. Sansa could hardly hold on when that pressure bloomed into pure pleasure. Jon never let up as she peaked, working her through the quivering nerves that danced from her release. At this point, Cersei was practically holding her up while she came down from such a powerful high.

Jon kissed his way back up to her face where he lovingly kissed her lips. Sansa weaved her arms around his neck, returning his kiss just as passionately.

“I think it’s time Jon gives you his seed, little dove,” Cersei commented huskily, stepping back from her.

Suddenly, Sansa was drenched in ice.

Jon broke off the kiss though he kept her pinned to his chest as he looked over her shoulder at his wife. “Now?” he grumbled. His fingers pressed insistently at her skin like he wished to suck her into his body to keep her safe. She wished she could burrow beneath his skin and never come out.

“Yes, Jon, now.” Sansa flinched at the Queen’s firm tone. She turned her head just a bit to see Cersei’s narrowed eyes on Jon then she noticed that the Queen had shed her own clothing to reveal her toned and beautiful body. She felt his chest huff in defeat, so she turned to him to catch his eyes.

“It’ll be alright,” Sansa whispered to him, leaning in to press a gentle kiss to his lips. She hoped he believed her words because she was still telling herself that as well.

She untangled herself from his grip, following Cersei’s quiet instruction to get on the bed. Sansa crawled her way up the bed then turned around onto her back. She watched as Jon shrugged off his clothes then she watched with a clenching stomach as Cersei kissed him and touched him. Her hands smoothing over his scarred chest and her lips taking over his. Sansa felt her eyes water, barely holding the tears at bay as she watched the painful sight before her.

Cersei’s movements spoke of her possession of him while his spoke of his reluctance. The older woman seemed to want to possess him as she stroked his body, an experienced hand slipping down further to grasp his hardened manhood. She jerked his cock a few times, swallowing his groans of pleasure. Sansa wondered if Cersei was jealous?

The Queen had to know that Jon loved Sansa while he tolerated his wife. It must burn for her to know that she could never gain his love like she had nor, could she bear his children as Sansa soon will. The thought of becoming pregnant with Jon’s child made tingles race through her limbs, helping to alleviate the pain of watching them. She wished that they were wed though, that things could have been different. Maybe, just maybe they can be.

Cersei’s hold on the realm was only as strong as her hold on Jon. Even the briefest of a moment of entering the Red Keep, Sansa could tell all eyes were on Jon rather than the Queen. She wondered if Jon had a plan to remove Cersei from her power, she wondered if she was a part of that plan.

The feather mattress sunk underneath the weight of Jon’s body as he crawled up to her. Sansa watched the scars on his chest move with the shifts of his body then her eyes drew down to his erected manhood. She sucked in a shaky breath, realizing only now that she hadn’t coupled with another man since her second husband and it wasn’t much of a coupling as it was him taking her savagely. Her heart picked up in beats and fear flowed through her body like blood. She wasn’t so sure she could go through with this.

Sansa had managed to fake herself out, make herself believe that everything would be alright and that she could go through with this setup, but now…her eyes closed tightly as awful memories started to flood her mind.

“Hey.” Sansa opened her eyes, barely cracking them to see Jon observing her.

Jon seemed to pick up her nervousness, giving her an encouraging smile. His hands came up to touch her kneecaps lightly, rubbing his thumbs on her skin soothingly. “It’ll be alright,” he repeated her words back to her, and that seemed to calm her raging fear, so it would not consume her whole.

Seeing him helped more though. Seeing his kind grey Stark eyes, shining with nothing but pure love for her. Sansa pushed aside the memories of her past and forced herself to focus on the present; on Jon.

Cersei maneuvered herself on the bed, lying beside Sansa on her right. She ran her fingers down her arm, ghosting her touch on the fine hairs there. An unwelcomed shiver trickled down her spine at the older woman’s touch. Not entirely unpleasant, but completely unwanted. Sansa endured though like she always has. It was what she did best at this point; endure and survive.

Lips skimmed down her hair before pressing softly at her ear. Sansa sighed at the touch, feeling Cersei press herself against her body as Jon got positioned between her legs. “You have such a lovely body, Sansa. Even the scars can’t deter from its beauty,” Cersei mumbled into her ear, her breath encompassing the side of her head.

She danced her fingers across Sansa’s arm to tickle the skin of her breasts, dragging the tips of her fingers across then down between the valley of her breasts tenderly. Sansa kept her focus on Jon though while he seemed mesmerized by her body as well. His eyes warmed a path from the top of her head down her breasts to her belly button, and down between her thighs where his mouth had ventured not so long ago.

Heat bloomed heavily on her cheeks in remembrance. Cersei was right, no man had ever done that to her. It was entirely new and unexpected, and she liked it far more than she thought she should.

“Are you ready, sweet girl?” Jon asked huskily, his thumbs still rubbing comfortingly at the skin of her knees. Cersei hummed, and it was like Sansa could feel the women’s gaze narrowing on Jon’s being. Her once tender fingers hardened upon her skin, dragging her nails harder than before.

Sansa flinched initially then held back her reaction to the older woman’s apparent jealousy. Her focus stayed on Jon like she intended while he waited patiently for her consent.

“I’m ready, Jon,” Sansa said clearly, sliding her hand up from the bed covers to grasp at his hand on her knee. He quickly took hold of her hand, intertwining their fingers much to his wife’s annoyance.

“I’ll make it good for you,” he vowed solemnly, squeezing her fingers almost too tightly before letting her hand go. Jon shifted closer, sinking down over top of her.

“Must you be so close,” Cersei grumbled irritably, her face uncomfortably snuggled between Sansa’s neck and shoulder while her hand was now cupping her breast that was closest to her.

“Yes.”

Sansa watched in fascination at the glare he was directing at his wife, and she was even more fascinated when Cersei seemed to accept his answer by burying her face further into her. Jon’s eyes softened when he turned them back on her though, his lips slightly lifting in a smile that eased her worries and fears more.

The gentle touch of his cock at her cunt startled her at first, causing Sansa to freeze. Jon took hold of his cock, lightly rubbing up and down her folds and spreading her wetness around. She slowly grew used to the feeling of his hard yet spongy head touching her so intimately until she was relaxed and feeling hints of pleasure tingling from down there. Sansa was so relaxed that the pressure and slight stinging stretch of his cock pushing into her body didn’t make her tense up. She hardly realized Jon was in her until she felt his hips flush against her and the pleasing pressure inside her.

She gasped in shock, lifting her head slightly to see him pressed tightly against her. There was nowhere for his cock to be but inside her now. As much as Sansa tried to push back the memories of her last coupling before, they refused to be ignored though it was only the memories of what it had felt like and comparing it to what it was feeling like with Jon. She remembered the pain and the feeling of violation.

Sansa remembered feeling so vulnerable and alone.

Jon slowly pulled back only a little then pushed forward until they were pressed together again, creating a pleasing sensation inside her. She felt none of those things right now with him. Not even Cersei massaging her breast and flicking her nipple could take away the feeling of how right it was for her and Jon to be like this. It was strange and new, the feelings that ran through her body as he started to thrust back and forth.

His cock slid smoothly in and out of her, no resistance to be found. Sansa felt flushed as she realized how wet she was down there to allow him such ease of movement. It was so different. It was so intense. Unbeknownst to her, she was cooing at the feelings Jon was creating in her body with his. She heard him groan then mumbled her name lovingly, his eyes never leaving hers. Surprisingly, Cersei kept her mouth shut, merely feeling up Sansa’s body while she stayed glued to her right.

It made it easier to be lost in Jon’s gaze.

Her hips lifted to meet his thrusts, both of them moaned at the spark of pleasure. Sansa continued to rut her hips to meet his, helping the building pressure grow more and more. Jon continued to mumble her name, moaning it and reveling in the heat of her body. He dropped to his elbow, bringing his face close to hers.

“No kissing,” Cersei roared into her neck.

Jon’s face hardened for a moment as though he were going to disregard her request, but he didn’t, and his hips never stopped thrusting into her either. Sansa smiled reassuringly. She didn’t need him to kiss her for this to be intimate, his eyes staying connected to hers did that more than any kiss could.

Each thrust brought her closer and closer to peaking. It was a slow build up like ascending a flight of stairs. Each step brought her closer to her destination, but it seemed harder and overwhelming to continue on. That was how Jon was making her feel. Sansa was ascending towards her peak, but she wasn’t so sure she wanted it, at least not like this. Not with Cersei pressed against her side, watching gleefully with her hand descending down from her breast to brush her flat belly.

This was a means for a child for Cersei; a means for control of Westeros. Sansa felt her eyes water and felt Jon stutter in his movements as he noted her glossy eyes. So, she closed them tightly, rutting her hips up to urge him on, to complete the task they were forced upon.

Jon mumbled her name softly, lovingly as he continued thrusting. A hand slid underneath her shoulder, clutching at her skin, feeling for a connection to her. Sansa wished to cut that connection though, wanted to ignore the pleasure burning in her belly along with the acidic kisses being pressed into her neck by the poisonous woman at her side.

Let it be over soon, Sansa thought, for she wished to not be in this situation anymore for either her or Jon.

Jon started pounding into her body, jostling her on the bed. Sansa felt the peak coming, but she ignored it, pushed back at it. His hard thrusts were pleasurable though, his cock massaging her inner walls with each pounding of his hips. Even the noises of skin slapping and wet sounds were pleasurable to her ears, but she closed them out. As though he heard her silent prayers, Jon stuttered in his thrusts before finding his release rapidly afterward. He dropped his face into her neck, groaning her name for her ears. A tingle of pleasure swam beneath her skin at his husky, rough voice saying her name so lovingly.

Jon then pressed his own kisses into her neck as though begging for forgiveness from her, and she did forgive him because he was just as much a victim of circumstance as she was.

“Alright, enough,” Cersei growled out, pushing at Jon to get off Sansa. He rolled off her, his softening cock slipping from her with a wet pop.

Sansa shuddered at the emptiness he left behind, her thighs clamped together tightly as she felt the vaguely familiar feeling of seed escaping her cunt. Cersei moved before her, forcing her thighs apart to witness the sight before allowing her a sense of modesty.

“Good,” the Queen announced, clearly satisfied with the results. In the corner of her eye, she noted that Jon was frowning at her, glare set in his eyes but his wife ignored him. “I think every three days you should come to dine with us, Sansa, and afterward a consummation until you are with child.”

Jon leaned up, mouth opened in protest, but Cersei spared him no glance as she bore her stare into Sansa’s eyes.

“Yes, my Queen,” Sansa answered solemnly, holding her stare until the older woman looked away.

“Good. Now, you can either stay and watch my husband and I, or you may clean up and leave to your chambers.” Cersei gave Sansa no time to decide as she descended onto Jon, kissing him harshly and showing her jealousy that she had barely contained.

Sansa yanked her eyes away from the sight, moving to stand so she could avoid watching the man she loved partaking in sex with his wife. She walked over to a basin filled with water where she wiped away Jon’s seed that was seeping down her inner thighs then used a chamber pot behind a divider to relieve her bladder. Once she came back out, she was greeted with the sight of Cersei on top of Jon, riding his cock. Her heart ached, pounding a painful rhythm inside her chest.

Her eyes were drawn to Jon, his face was set in a stern expression with his eyes locked on Cersei though there was no passion in them; no love. Not like when he was with her. Sansa felt the pain ease at the thought as she dressed quickly then briskly left the Queen’s chambers without sparing them a backwards glance.

The trek back to the Maidenvault was quiet, leaving her with the many thoughts swimming around inside her brain. Sansa felt like she was drowning by the time she got back to her chambers. She called for a bath, wishing to wash away the sweat and memories embedded into her skin.

Once the bath was ready, Sansa stripped in front of a long mirror. She stopped to look herself over, turning to the side and imagined her belly larger, sticking forward with child. She couldn’t fool herself that she had always wanted children and that for many, many moons she had thought of Jon being the father. It was like a dream come true, yet in such a twisted, bittersweet way. Sansa brushed her fingers softly over her belly, wondering if his seed had already taken root.

She tore her eyes away from her image to step into the tub, letting the hot water wash over her and consume her being. In a way, she used the bath as a form of cleansing her body and soul. She scrubbed away the oils, dirt, and sweat of the day and activity she partook in. Sansa scrubbed so roughly at her skin that by the time she got out of the tub, her skin was bright red like her hair.

Though her thoughts were scattered, her mind was able to focus on Jon. She wondered what he was doing right now if he was laying in bed with Cersei after she had spent herself on him. Wondered if he was thinking of her right now too? Sansa ran a brush through her hair at the vanity, staring hard at her red-rimmed eyes.

Every three days she would be subjected to fornicating with Jon until she was with child. She would have to bear the pain of seeing him married to another, finding unwanted pleasure with another before being forced to sleep together. Sansa felt so tormented, but there was not much she could do in the situation. Gods, how she wished she had more time to talk with Jon.

Sansa jumped upon her door opening without her consent. She whipped around in her seat, fear gripping her heart as a darkly clouded man stepped into her chambers rapidly. He shut her door abruptly as she dropped her brush, standing up from her seat. She only had a few candles lit, enough to get around the room, but not enough to illuminate everything.

“Who are you?” Sansa asked tightly, glancing around her to find something to defend herself with. She would not be harmed without a fight, without a struggle.

“Sansa.”

Then it was Jon coming forward while pushing the hood of his cloak back to reveal his face. Sansa stood still, even her breathing halting as she took him in.

It was like a dam broke inside her, tears flooded her eyes, and she was launching herself at him; reminiscent of their reunion again. Jon clutched her to him, pressing kisses to her forehead, her wet eyelids, her cheeks then he was kissing her roughly on the lips. Sansa combed her fingers through his hair, tightening her grip as she kissed him back with just as much roughness.

She felt his tongue swipe across her lips before hers pressed forward to tangle with his. She battled his tongue within his mouth, moaning her pleasure with echoes of his groans. Jon swiftly lifted her up into his arms, walking the short distance to her bed where he deposited her there with him quickly following.

Sansa pushed away his cloak to reveal a simple tunic beneath then she was tugging at that piece of cloth in search of his scarred chest. Her fingers stumbled over the remnants of his wounds with her lips following after. It was like she wasn’t in control of her movements like she was being possessed. Sansa had to reclaim him, she realized as she closed her lips around his nipple. She had to reclaim him from Cersei’s touch, reclaim him back to her where he belonged.

With that intention in mind, Sansa pushed at Jon until he was on his back and she was straddling his lap. The look of lust and passion in his eyes as he gazed up at her was encouraging. It was an exact opposite of what he looked like with Cersei on top of him.

Jon grabbed the edges of her robe, tugging it apart and off her body to reveal her washed skin to his eyes. His hands burned pathways up her waist to grasp her breasts where his rough thumbs swiped across her stiffening nipples. It felt so different this time. They were rougher, for sure, but it was also that their passion wasn’t halted between them. It grew and grew, burning through their veins as they kissed and touched.

Sansa practically ripped his sleeping trousers to free his hard cock to her touch. Jon wrapped his hand around hers, showing her how to move her hand and how tight he wanted it. She felt powerful, leaning above him as she stroked him. Jon brought her back down to his lips where they devoured any and all noise between them.

That was another thing that was different this time. Jon was groaning, moaning, and gasping her name loudly while he had mostly been silent before. Sansa embraced the sounds, feeling them like a physical caress upon her skin. Her voice quickly joined his in volume when his fingers found their way between her legs.

His fingers slipped between her wet folds, finding her throbbing nub hidden within. Sansa’s hand tightened around his cock at his touch, and together they brought each other closer to peaking. Jon groaned at her wetness, especially when his fingers dipped lower to press inside her.

Sansa reached down to push away his hand, not wanting to peak without him inside her. This time she wouldn’t lock herself away from the feeling. This time she would relish the feeling. Jon helped her maneuver around until she was sliding down his cock with her pelvis was pressed securely against his. They both shuddered at the feeling then Jon reached up to interlock their fingers together.

“Ride me, Sansa,” Jon begged, encouraging her to move above him.

“I’m going to rid her from you,” Sansa vowed before using his hands locked within hers as leverage to move.

It was strange being on top for her. The movement was different from her sort of bouncing in his lap. It created the same pleasure though, and she was the one in complete control. Another change that made the encounter that much sweeter. Jon lifted his hips to meet her downward bounces, increasing their pleasure and the general speed between them. Sansa clutched at his hands, watching him beneath her lashes as she moved up and down his cock.

He watched her with dark, lustful eyes, his mouth open to allow little noises to escape and utterance of her name. He looked besotted, he looked in love, and he looked happy.

“I love you,” Sansa said breathlessly, shocking her when she realized she said the words out loud. Jon’s eyes widened then he was tugging her forward until she was pressed against his chest with his arms wrapped tightly around her body.

“I love you so much, sweet girl,” Jon declared into her ear, thrusting upward into her prone body. “I’ve loved you for so long, it hurts to think about it.”

Sansa moaned in half pleasure and half pain as she knew exactly how he felt. The longing, the lingering doubts, and the endless love that practically choked the air from your lungs. She could hear it in his voice how he felt it all the same as she had. Sansa pulled back enough to lock eyes with him, to see the love and pain of that love within them.

“Don’t ever leave me again. No matter what.” Jon nodded quickly then they were kissing deeply, locked together throughout their bodies.

Jon kept thrusting the entire time, his heels dug into the mattress for leverage. Sansa dove headfirst into her peak, shuddering with little shocks of pleasure before Jon was joining. This time she felt what sex could truly be like with love, and when it was two people wanting it rather than forced into the situation. She treasured the lingering tingles of pleasure, Jon’s sweaty arms still holding her to him, and his cock softening inside her.

They stayed locked like that for a few minutes before Sansa pushed at his arms to let her up. She repeated her clean up from earlier then Jon used her chamber pot as she settled into her bed. He joined her quickly, coming up behind her to cuddle into her back and once more lock her within his arms.

She let the silence reign between them for a while, gathering her thoughts together before finally asking him the dreaded question that had been plaguing her since that dinner: “What do we do, Jon?”

He sighed, pressing his forehead to the back of her neck. “We will overthrow Cersei,” he stated after a moment of thought.

“Her power is weak then.” She felt him nod.

“Aye, she has only so much influence and with so many Northerners now in the Capital, she’ll be hard pressed to keep her position. She thinks she has me tied to her, but we have already been moving plans around to put her on trial. Now with you here, and the implications she placed upon us, it’ll be easier to move forward.”

“How so?” Sansa questioned, turning around to face Jon with her hands pressed tenderly to his chest. He placed a hand over hers, his thumb rubbing up and down the back of one hand.

“She needs an heir and thinks that she can use you so easily, but she’s wrong. You have a far stronger pull on the people of the North than even I do and…” Jon paused for a moment, pursing his lips together as though he were struggling with the words inside his head. “And if you have my child then that’ll reinforce your influence, but…I will procure moon tea if you so wish…”

Sansa shook her head though, leaning forward to bury her face into his neck. “I don’t want the moon tea, Jon,” she answered, mumbling the words into his skin.

“I’m glad to hear that, Sansa,” he mumbled back, tightening his grip on her hands then wrapped his other arm around her back. “We’ll talk more in the morning, sleep now, love.”

Sansa burrowed further into his warmth, soaking it in along with the love he held for her. She wasn’t sure what the future held for them. She hadn’t even thought there was much of a future for them together, but like she thought before, Jon had a plan going, and it was only a matter of time before it could be set in motion.

The only thing she truly knew was that she loved him and if there was a future for them, then it was worth fighting for. It was worth the heartache and longing. It was worth the wait…

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> There you have it! I hope y'all enjoyed and it wasn't too hard to get through. I quite enjoyed writing this story and of course, Cersei is always fun to write (in my opinion). Winterslady, I hope this is everything you wanted it to be! I'm sure you probably wanted more Cersei in on the action with Jon and Sansa, but as I was writing it, it just didn't seem to come out that way. I hope you enjoyed it regardless! 
> 
> Also, there might be a sequel in the making, I did leave this story on somewhat a cliff-hanger for me to possibly continue in another chapter. I haven't put much thought into it, but it is a possibility, so keep tuned. Let me know whatcha think and thanks for reading!! ^_~


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